


Desolation Row

by FredAndGinger



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Character Death, M/M, Rape, Rape Recovery, Revenge, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-21 19:27:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1561406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FredAndGinger/pseuds/FredAndGinger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I think Mrs. P is wrapping it up. Ten more minutes and I’ll be heading out.” The text said. It was from Gerard. He was in still at school, the poor bastard, and his teacher taught until the final bell. Frank envied Gerard only for his warmth. </p>
<p>“I’m cold. Hurry up.” Frank typed out, and he slipped the phone back into his pocket just in time to be roughly grabbed by the front of his hoodie and dragged into an alleyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desolation Row

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, not sorry I wrote this.

Frank was happy today. Why the fuck wouldn’t he be? It was a work day, which he got to spend with his amazing boyfriend and his best friend. He got out of school half an hour early because his teacher was just that awesome. He was drinking his favorite soda. It was going to be a long weekend. Life was pretty fucking good.

Then, it started to fucking rain. Well, Frank was a bit of an idiot and he forgot his coat in this cold, almost-but-not-quite-winter weather. So, he cursed under his breath and walked faster towards his place of work, knowing that Mikey would probably have coffee waiting for him and Gerard.

“Son of a fucking bitch fuck.” Frank cursed as he slouched.

“That doesn’t even make sense.” Bob said reasonably.

Oh yeah, walking towards his place of work with Bob Bryar was also a biggie on the plus list, if you ask Frank. The kid was tall enough to shield Frank’s tiny ass from a good deal of the wind, and he scared off any of the neighborhood assholes that may or may not want to mug little F-dawg.

“It doesn’t have to make sense.” Frank grumbled, rubbing his hands together and wishing for gloves. Maybe Gerard would have an extra pair.

“Dude, you’re wearing eyeliner today. I think it might run.” Bob said sagely. It was true. He was wearing eyeliner as part of a bet with Mikey to see how long he could last at school wearing makeup. He was unsure of how the whole makeup melting thing worked, especially in the rain, but he didn’t really want to find out.

“Aw fuck, I won’t be pretty.” He pouted though a shiver. Fuck it was cold.

“Do you want my coat? Why didn’t you bring one, dumbass?” Bob demanded.

“N-no, you have f-further to w-walk h-home. Fuck!” Frank cursed at his stuttering. So it begun.

Whenever Frank got cold it was hard to become un-cold. It would start with small shivers and work up to violent shakes and chattering teeth and broken stuttering sentences. Even when he was warm it took him forever to calm down his shivering.

“Whatever man, I’m not a fucking Chihuahua like you.” Bob said with a shrug.

“F-fuck off! Th-the weather man-n lied t-to me, ok-kay?” Frank grumbled angrily.

“And here’s my stop.” Bob said, walking towards the sheltered bench to wait for his bus. “Don’t get hypothermia on your way to work.”

“L-love you t-too.” Frank called, blowing a fake kiss and walking onward. He ducked his head down to protect himself from the rain and grumbled about how Bob was his wind-guard and now he was left alone to die in this world. His phone vibrated and he looked down at it.

“I think Mrs. P is wrapping it up. Ten more minutes and I’ll be heading out.” The text said. It was from Gerard. He was in still at school, the poor bastard, and his teacher taught until the final bell. Frank envied Gerard only for his warmth.

“I’m cold. Hurry up.” Frank typed out, and he slipped the phone back into his pocket just in time to be roughly grabbed by the front of his hoodie and dragged into an alleyway.

“What the hell, man?” He yelled, before being sent to the ground by a fist to the face.

His attacker kept the blows coming and was beating Frank to a bloody mess before the shorter boy had even seen the assailant’s face. Frank decided not to try to see who he was either, but to instead curl into a ball and protect his vital organs and pretty face. As the blows rained down, Frank could hear the man muttering words. A few got through, “You fucking faggot.”

Finally there was a break and Frank got the courage to move a little. His whole body was in pain and he had never been more afraid in his life. His ribs were on fire, it hurt to breathe, and he was pretty sure his ankle had been at least sprained in the beating. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.

“W-what do you w-want?” He stuttered, “My m-money? Take it!” He held out the wallet for the man to take, but he merely batted it away. Frank looked up, trying to see who this person was, and he gasped in recognition.

Bert McCracken, Gerard’s ex-boyfriend, reached down and grabbed the front of Frank’s shirt. He dragged the beaten boy to his feet and held him close to his face. Frank flinched, afraid of what was going to happen to him. Bert kissed him. That asshole bastard had the nerve to crush Frank’s face against his own and kiss his goddamned lips.

“G-get the f-fuck away from me!” Frank screeched, pushing the older boy now that he wasn’t being continually beaten. Bert just laughed and kicked Frank off his feet and onto his ass. His phone flew out of his pocket from the force and he saw that he had a new message on his screen.

“Out. Headed your way. Save me coffee?” But then the glass cracked as Frank’s assailant smashed the screen under his boot. He stood over Frank, who was now backed up against a wall, and reached down. Bert was unzipping his pants.

“You little fucker. You stole my boyfriend, you know that? Not that I can really blame him, you’re a hot piece of ass” Bert said with a smirk, baring his dick for the world to see. Frank swallowed hard. His eyes darted for the mouth of the alley, but Bert decided to stop him from trying to make a break for it by stepping on his hand and presumably, by the crunching noise his finger made, broke his bones.

Frank screamed loudly, until Bert pulled out a knife and held it to his throat.

“Make another sound and I will end you.” He threatened. Frank swallowed his screams. Bert moved his crotch close to Frank’s mouth.

“Suck. And if you try to bite me it’ll be the last thing you do.” He threatened, pressing the knife into Frank’s skin. Frank nodded slightly and opened his mouth a little. Bert decided that a little was enough, and thrust himself in. Frank nearly gagged, but he managed not to. Maybe if he could get him off, he’d leave him alone.

Frank set off to do the best blowjob in the history of blowjobs, after that. He swirled his tongue and swallowed around him and bobbed his head and everything. Bert, which Frank took as a good sign. A very good sign.

“I always knew you were a cock hungry slut.” He hissed, pulling out and slapping Frank’s face, hard. Frank whimpered and fell back against the wall once more.

“Don’t worry, I’m saving some of this fun for you.” He said with a grin, reaching down and pulling on Frank’s jeans. Frank made a noise of protest, but Bert just flashed his knife again and Frank went silent. 

"If Gerard wants to stick his dick in a pretty whore, I can too. We can share, can’t we, Frankie? I mean, it’s not like he’s with you for the company.” He laughed, struggling with Frank’s stubborn belt.

Bert pulled Frank’s pants down past his knees and situated himself with Frank’s legs around his torso. He grinned manically and then thrust into the shorter boy without warning or preparation.

Frank tried to stifle his scream. He started to cry when Bert didn’t give him any time to rest and just started to thrust in without any cares. He was sobbing as the speed picked up. It felt like an eternity. Soon Frank’s crying quieted, until his sobs were silent and his tears mixed with the freezing rain. The thrusts were impossibly fast now, and Bert began to talk though his obscene grunts.

“I was just going to beat you up,” He paused, moaning, “but then I thought it would be a waste, it’s not every day I get to fuck someone as hot as you. You should be glad, I was going to break your legs.” He paused again to catch his breath, “This saves you a lot of pain.”

Bert stopped talking and sped up his pace, causing Frank to whimper in pain. He felt something hot shoot deep inside him and Bert stopped his movement. Frank sighed in relief as Bert pulled out.

Bert pulled up Frank’s jeans for him and zipped them up.

“Thanks for the fuck. See you around.” He said, patting Frank’s crotch and walking out of the alley like nothing had happened.

Frank stared at the sky.

He soon heard footsteps walking down the street. ‘Oh God, he’s back.’ Frank thought, moving so that he was curled into a ball by the wall. Maybe then Bert wouldn’t notice he hadn’t left.

“Hey, are you okay?” A familiar voice called out. The footsteps stopped at the mouth of the alley and Frank chanced a glance up. It was Gerard.

“G-Gee.” He said, barely loud enough for Gerard to hear.

“Frank?” Gerard gasped, rushing into the alley and falling to his knees in front of Frank to see what had happened, “What the fuck happened to you?”

“I-I I got…” Frank stuttered, trying to get the words out and failing. Gerard stripped his coat and wrapped it around his boyfriend.

“You can tell me in a minute, we’re getting you out of the cold.” Gerard said.

He tried to help Frank stand, but it turned out that his ankle was broken rather than sprained, and it was just easier for everyone if Gerard just sucked it up and carried the shorter boy to their work. So that’s what they did. Gerard scooped up Frank bridal style and struggled to carry him the remaining four blocks to their work. He almost dropped the poor boy a few times, because our Gerard is not the strongest fellow, but they made it.

Gerard pushed open the door and brought Frank in, setting him down on a cushioned chair that was there for people to sit and read the ratty old comics in the box on the table. Frank shivered violently and pulled Gerard’s coat closer around himself with his good hand.

“Mikey!” Gerard yelled, going over to the coat rack and pulling his brother’s dry coat off its hook.

“What?” Mikey demanded, “Where the fuck have you and Frank been? You were both supposed to be here ten minutes ago!”

“Grab the first aid kit!” Gerard yelled back, bringing Mikey’s coat over to Frank. He helped Frank wordlessly out of his coat and the soaking hoodie.

“We should take off your shirt so it doesn’t just soak Mikey’s coat too.” Gerard suggested. Frank hesitated for a long moment, while they listened to Mikey digging through the back room for the kit and demanding to be told what was going on.

“Okay.” He whispered, his voice raspy and coarse. Gerard helped him out of the shirt, careful not to fuck with his broken hand too much. Gerard winced at the sight of the bloody, bruised marks on his boyfriend’s chest.

“I think we should wait until we bandage you up to put on the coat.” Gerard said, and Frank nodded.

Finally Gerard sat back on his heels and looked at Frank. He looked terrible. His right eye was starting to bruise already, his cheek was swollen, he had a split lip, his eyeliner was running, and there was a bleeding cut on his neck. His chest and arms were peppered with bruises that were starting to form, his right hand was limp looking, there was blood seeping into the light material of his jeans, his ankle was broken, and he was soaking wet.

“I got it!” Mikey yelled, rushing out with the first aid kit. He skidded to a halt in front of Frank. “Holy fuck.”

“I found him like this in an alley. I think he got mugged.” Gerard explained.

“Y-yeah, I got mugged-d.” Frank stuttered quietly. But then, Gerard’s mind really registered the blood on his jeans.

“Frankie.” He said calmly as Mikey got out alcohol wipes, “Why are you bleeding through your jeans?”

Frank curled up on himself a little bit at the mention of that and looked positively distraught. Mikey and Gerard were frozen in front of him, knowing exactly what had happened but not daring to even move.

“He…” Frank started after a minute long eternity, “He d-didn’t want m-my money.”

There was a long stretch of silence.

“I’m going to kill him.” Mikey said, turning towards the door with an expression that would freeze hell over.

“Do you know who it was?” Gerard asked, looking just as murderous as his brother.

“B-Bert. It w-was Bert.” Frank whispered.

“Bert McCracken?” Gerard asked, looking surprised and even more furious.

“Y-yeah. He said he w-wanted you to sh-share your whore.” Frank said, avoiding Gerard’s face by looking at the ground.

“What?” Gerard asked in a monotone voice. Mikey looked at him, a bit concerned about scaring Frank.

“He s-said that he was going to b-beat me up to teach me a l-lesson, but I was too pretty.” Frank continued, his stuttering starting to calm down.

“He thinks… he thinks this is a game?” Gerard said quietly, dangerously. “He thinks that if he can scare you, I’ll go back to him? He hurt you so badly because of me?”

“Gerard…” Mikey said, reaching out towards his brother.

“I’m going to fucking kill him, oh my god. Frankie, I promise you that he’s going to die. He’s never going to lay another fucking finger on anybody.” Gerard ranted, turning towards the door with the full intention of trekking through the rain to Bert’s house and killing him.

“No! No. You c-can’t!” Frank yelled desperately.

“Why not?” Gerard asked, turning towards him with wild eyes.

“I don’t want you to go to jail, Gee. They'll catch you.” Frank said, his tears beginning again.

“What if me and Gerard think things through and hide the body? Jersey is fucking full of dead bodies that no one’s ever found. And no one would care about Bert.” Mikey said, looking at his brother for a nod of approval.

Frank thought for a minute. Bert really only had two friends, and they were all druggies. Everyone would probably figure he got shot in a drug deal or something, and his friends wouldn’t look very hard for him.

Frank closed his eyes. He nodded. The Way brothers nodded as well and Mikey began to treat Frank’s wounds.

***

Frank had needed to go to the hospital for several broken fingers and a broken ankle. The combination of the two injuries made it hard for him to get around, but he was coping in a wheelchair. Besides, one of his friends usually pushed him around anyways.

Frank was trying to act normal, like this never happened. As far as Ray and Bob knew, it hadn’t happened. He and the Way brothers were the only people who knew, which comforted Frank. Sometimes he’d have a panic attack, but Gerard had made up a story that he had gotten locked in an enclosed space for too long and he was feeling claustrophobic. It worked on the teachers, as well as his parents.

Gerard had been visiting him at home at night a lot, since neither of them could sleep very well since the incident. Frank’s parents didn’t know, but it’s not like they were doing anything they wouldn’t approve of. Frank could barely give Gerard brief kisses anymore, but he was trying.

Two weeks after the incident, Frank was in his room, lying on top of the covers and debating whether it was worth it to get up and grab some popcorn from the kitchen. He heard a tap on his window and opened it to let Gerard in.

Gerard was a sight. His lip was split, he had a black eye, and the white lettering on his Misfits shirt had red splashed across them.

“We did it. Well, I did it. Mikey just kept a lookout and helped me hide the body.” Gerard said. He hadn’t talked about killing Bert since the day in the comic book store.

“He’s gone?” Frank asked quietly.

“Yeah, he’s not going to hurt anyone anymore.” Gerard said with a nod.

“Oh thank god.” Frank sighed, closing his eyes. He felt like a weight of worry had been taken off his chest.

“You’re okay?” Gerard asked.

“Sort of. You okay?” Frank asked. Gerard did just kill a man, though Frank didn’t think he was really even human as much as a monster.

“Sort of. I threw up where we buried him. But it was worth it.” Gerard shrugged.

“It was?”

“Yeah, Frank. For you, I’d kill a thousand men.”


End file.
